Temptation
by DebC75
Summary: Someone's about to be conquered (sequel to Billionaire Boys Club) UPDATED!
1. 1: Not Your Typical Day at Work

Part 1  
  
The cover of _Newsweek_ showed them facing off against each other over Grant Tech: Bruce Wayne, the new face of old money and Lex Luthor, an extension of his father's corrupt power.   
  
"They couldn't be any further from the truth," Bruce said, chuckling as he eyed Martha Kent's apple pie. Lana gave him a quiet smile as she cut a generous piece of the dessert for him and set it on a plate next to his coffee cup. She'd only showed him the cover out of curiosity, because she had yet to see proof either Lex or Bruce as hating one another. He explained that most reputable publications--Newsweek included--deliberately chose to disregard the whole miniature golf incident in favor of romanticizing old Luthor-Wayne feuds. If anything, however, their relationship seemed quite the opposite. Lex and Bruce were good friends, even if Bruce had carried off part of Lionel's company recently.   
  
"Can I get you anything else, Mr. Wayne?" she asked.   
  
"Bruce, please," he countered, reminding her of all times Lex had done the same. "Actually, you wouldn't happen to have some vanilla ice cream for the pie, would you?" He gave her a self-conscious grin.   
  
The young woman gave a small laugh. "Shall I heat it for you, while I'm at it?"   
  
"Couldn't hurt," the billionaire replied, echoing her laugh. He glanced around at the bustling coffee shop, and then turned back to her. "Busy summer?" he inquired.  
  
"So-so." Lana eyed him, regarding the man intently for the first time since he'd walked into the Talon that afternoon. Dressed in blue jeans and a plain, white shirt, he looked nothing like she would have expected. "You still didn't answer my question, you know. What brings you to Smallville?"  
  
"If I said it was the charming atmosphere you'd hardly believe me, would you?"   
  
Lana shook her head, her smile twisting into an amused smirk. If Chloe were here, she'd be suggesting they test the water for meteor fragments. Why else would two of the world's best-looking, eligible, incredibly rich guys show any interest in the town? Shaking her head again, she slipped in to the small kitchen area to heat his pie.   
  
When she returned, he had his back to her, leaning against the counter as he gazed out the front window. There a quiet, contemplative look on his face, and Lana almost hated to interrupt him.   
  
"I bought a farm," he said, surprising her because she'd been so quiet in approaching him that she wasn't sure he'd heard her.   
  
"A farm?" Lana was confused. What did Bruce Wayne need a farm for? Then again, why did Lex or his father need a castle in the middle of nowhere?   
  
"The Tullson place, on the old Mill Road," he explained, and Lana was impressed that he'd gone to the trouble of learning the geography of Smallville. She was also surprised. She'd heard that someone had bought the place--who hadn't? The Tullsons had been in Smallville for generation, one of the founding families. The sale alone had come as a shock, but the news that Mr. Tullson was moving to Florida had come close to being scandalous.   
  
"What--" she paused in her question, blushing when he turned back towards her and casually dug into his pie a la mode.   
  
"What am I going to do with it?" he supplied, finishing her sentence before taking a sip of his coffee.   
  
"Yeah," she responded. "That is, if you don't mind my asking?"   
  
He smiled--a warm, wide smile, and Lana felt as if she could lose herself in that smile. "Not at all. I'm having the farmhouse restored to it's original condition, and then I plan to use it as a summer home. Someplace I can come to and relax."  
  
"Oh. Okay..." Lana suppressed the urge to tell him he'd be better off buying property in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle if he was looking to relax. "Sounds good. How's that coming?"   
  
"Should be finished by the end of summer, according to the people I hired. I was just out there, actually. My decorator wanted to run a few ideas by me." He paused long enough to take another drink of his coffee and have another taste of his pie. As he chewed, he stared at her with his intensely expressive eyes, and Lana felt as if he were trying to see inside her. It made her nervous, but a part of her liked it all the same.   
  
"I--I should get back to my other customers," she said, willing herself not to blush under his gaze. She was losing the ability to think, just as she had the day at the miniature golf course when he'd been so close and so friendly.   
  
Bruce shrugged, the motion a casual roll of his shoulders. "That would probably be a good idea," he quipped with a smile.   
  
"Just let me know if you need anything," she told him, feeling a little more like herself now that she was focusing on her work and not his smile.   
  
"Actually, there might be something you can help with."  
  
This stopped her, clean tray in hand, and forced her to look at him. "I take it you're not talking a bout a refill."  
  
"No," he chuckled softly. "This is a little embarrassing, but I really know nothing about redecorating an entire home. The closest I've come was when they let us put posters up in our dorms in boarding school." He gave a sheepish smile. "Lex says you and Nell did most of the Talon's decorating yourself, and I was wondering if the two of you might give me your opinions on my decorator's plans. Before I approve anything."  
  
"Ahhh... " There was nothing like being put on the spot by a handsome man to make a girl feel flushed and flustered. "I can ask Nell, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind."  
  
"Good. Call me when you know for certain."   
  
Lana suddenly found herself holding a napkin with Bruce Wayne's cell phone number scrawled across it as she stared at his retreating back.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
When Lana arrived home after her double shift at the Talon, there was a letter from Whitney waiting for her. His letters came every two weeks. They were usually long and full of sweet thoughts for the future. Sometimes a little too sweet, Lana often thought. He told her little to nothing about his job or his friends there, and always spoke of what things would be like when they saw each other again. Lana sometimes wondered if she'd even know him when that time came.   
  
Or if she really wanted to.   
  
This letter was a little different, however. After the customary "Dear Lana" Whitney went to say that he'd been surprised when his roommate at the barracks returned home with a tabloid from the grocery store, and her picture was one the front cover--with Bruce and Lex on the mini golf course. His roommate had recognized her and brought it home to show him. Lana had wondered if that would get back to him.   
  
Of course, she'd written to him about the trip to Gotham in her last letter. It must not have gotten to him yet. Oh well, she thought with a sigh of frustration. If Whitney wanted to be jealous over a lot of baseless rumors, she couldn't exactly stop him.   
  
That didn't mean the accusations in his letter had made didn't hurt. They did. He was acting like he didn't trust her, didn't know her. Sometimes, she didn't think he ever had known her, just thought he had.   
  
Waiting for Whitney was a lot harder than she had originally thought it would be.   
  
Wiping away the tear that was slowly running down her cheek, Lana folded Whitney's letter and put it in her sock drawer with the others. She'd write back later, when she wasn't so emotional. If she did it now, the words would come out wrong.   
  
Instead, she decided to Nell about Bruce Wayne's rather unusual request. Bruce Wayne. Lana felt the smile creep back onto her face, and she straightened out of the dejected slouch Whitney's letter had left her in. If anyone had told her that one day she'd be faced with the prospect of helping Bruce Wayne pick out new curtains for his summer home, she would have laughed at them. She still might; it *was* an outrageous thought. Then again, this was Smallville. Stranger things had been known to happen.   
  



	2. 2: What's Different for Some

Part 2  
  
"That soon?" Bruce was asking the cell phone in his hand as he approached the screen door of the old farmhouse. He smiled when he saw them standing there and motioned them to come inside, as he continued to talk. "Lana and her aunt just got here. Potter," he told the person he was talking to. He pronounced it as 'aahnt' as opposed to the usual Americanized 'ant'--a gentle reminder that he'd been raised by an English servant and reared in English boarding schools. "She runs the florist shop in town." Presently he covered the mouthpiece of cellular phone with his hand and mouthed the name of his guardian/butler in his guests' direction.   
  
Lana returned the smile he flashed them both with one tentative smile of her own, looking around the gutted exterior of the home. It seemed so sterile and cold to her. Empty and desolate, and yet, she had a feeling that before long, the new owner would have it filled with life.   
  
"Alright," he told Alfred as he began walking back towards them. "Have Gregory fax the new reports to my office. I'll look them over when I get back from Metropolis later this week. Thanks, Alfred," he added with a small smile. He came to stand next to Lana and Nell, sighing as he did so. "Sometimes I wonder how my father ran it all by himself," he said in response to their questioning gazes. "Nothing seems to work without me these days."   
  
"Newsweek says Wayne Enterprises is actually bigger now than it was when your father was... ran it," Nell commented clumsily.  
  
Bruce nodded slowly, seemingly lost in some deep thought for a moment. "I... think it might be," he muttered, shaking his head.   
  
Lana marveled at this--he was so confident one minute and so confused the next, as if his mind had fallen under a sudden fog. "You... " she hesitated before continuing her sentence. "You said you wanted our opinions on the house?"   
  
"Yeah," he replied, the fog seeming to lift from his countenance. "The plans are in here. I was just about to go over them before Alfred called. I'm not sure I like what the decorator wants to do with the upstairs though." He led them into what might have been a living room, but was now full of sawhorses and power tools. On a makeshift table, many blue prints and home interior swatch books were laid out.   
  
Staring down at the sketches, Lana shook her head. "I thought you said you wanted to restore the house," she said.   
  
"I am... well, the exterior, anyway. But I'm afraid François has his own ideas about the interior. I just want something simple and homey." Bruce shook his head. "Maybe I should have made myself more clear when he asked what I was looking for."  
  
"What did you tell him?" Lana couldn't get over François's sketches and selected swatches. They were neither simple nor homey, and certainly not "Smallville" by any standards.   
  
"Different," Bruce admitted sheepishly. Different. Lana had to remind herself that "different" to Bruce Wayne would be normal for everyone else. Apparently, François had forgotten that, too.  
  
*&*&*&*  
  
"Different," Lana told Clark later that evening. They were sitting on the front porch of Lana's house, drinking lemonade while they caught up. Clark smelled like fresh cut hay and had little flecks of the dried grass on his tee shirt.   
  
"Different?" her friend echoed. "That's all he told the guy?"   
  
"I guess so," she laughed a little. "So, what do you think about the offer?"  
  
"Well, it's... neat," Clark told her, fumbling over the words in a way that made Lana think he wasn't totally sincere.   
  
"You're okay with me helping Bruce, right, Clark?" Not that it mattered. Clark wasn't her boyfriend or legal guardian, and he really didn't get a say in what she did with her life. Besides, Nell was helping Bruce, too, and as long as Nell didn't object, no one else had the right to, either. "I thought you liked Bruce."  
  
Clark fidgeted. "Mr. Wayne's okay," he said. "He's done good things for Smallville and for my family in particular, but he's like..."   
  
"Like what? Like Lex? Rich and dashing and fun to be with?" Lana didn't understand Clark sometimes. He was the first one to stick up for Lex Luthor when no one else would, but he seemed be having a hard time being equally accepting of Bruce Wayne.   
  
"Worldly, I was going to say," Clark defended himself, blushing awkwardly. "I just don't understand what a rich guy like him would want in a small town like this or with people like you and me."   
  
"But you don't feel that way about Lex?"   
  
"Lex is different."  
  
The words sounded hollow in Lana's ears, as if Clark had made them up on the spur of the moment and knew how false they were. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear he was jealous of Bruce. Shrugging off the idea, she shook her head sadly. "Have you heard from Lex since we got back from Gotham?" she asked.   
  
Clark shook his head slightly. "He told me to call, but when I do, he's always too busy to talk. I dunno; I think something big is happening with LuthorCorp right now."   
  
Lana thought so, too, actually. While the Talon afforded her at the very least one conference call with Lex a month, she had also gotten the feeling the younger Luthor was busier than he'd ever been in his entire life. She'd actually been surprised to see him in Gotham, and even more surprised to see him so laid back while they were there. He really seemed like he was having fun with Bruce and--   
  
Oh. He had been having fun with Bruce; they all had, in fact. Could that be why Clark was acting so weird? Because Lex was so buddy-buddy with Bruce Wayne? She remembered when Pete thought Lex was going to steal Clark away from him last year. It hadn't happened, of course, but Pete had treated Lex pretty badly all the same.   
  
"I'm sorry, Clark," she told him and meant it, past annoyances aside. "I'm sure Lex wishes he had more time for his friends, too."   
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Clark muttered. "So... hear anything from Whitney these days?"  
  
Whitney. Yeah, great way to change the subject, Clark, Lana silently accused him. "Yeah," she said aloud. "I got a letter from him yesterday, actually."   
  
"Did he... say anything good?" Clark asked, not seeming to notice the way Lana was now glaring at him.   
  
"I don't know; I haven't read it yet," she lied. She really did not want to talk about Whitney. Not even with Clark. Especially not with Clark. He wouldn't understand what it felt like to be trapped in a lie, and that's what her relationship with Whitney Fordman was starting to feel like--one big lie that had gotten way out of hand. "What about you?" she asked in an attempt to avoid furthering the whole Whitney conversation. "Hear anything from Chloe or Pete?"  
  
At Chloe's name, Clark got the goofiest grin on his face. Lana vaguely remembered what it felt like to smile whenever someone mentioned the person you love. "Chloe sent me a copy of her first byline in the Planet," he told her before launching into a retelling of Chloe's summer adventures. Well, the ones she'd shared with him, Lana supposed. Chloe was staying with her cousin, Lois, again and, from the sounds of things, there were some tidbits she probably left out of her escapades. Lana made a mental note to e-mail Chloe later for some of the juicier gossip.  
  
  



	3. 3: Games

Part 3  
  
Lex Luthor smiled across the table at the plump businessman--a cold, shrewd and very calculated smile. "Thank you, " he said in a tone similar to his smile. "I really do have to go now," he added, reaching forward to shake the man's hand. The man's handshake was similar to his appearance: plump and clammy. But also deceivingly confident, which was what made Lex smile the most... the assurance that both of them knew what they were doing. Their waiter returned with the bill, which Lex indicated should be put on his tab.   
  
"Mr. Luthor--" the businessman spoke up, only to be cut off by a slight frown from Lex. He had his wallet half out of his inner jacket pocket.  
  
"Please, call me Lex. 'Mr. Luthor' is really my father's title. And besides, after today, we really ought to be on a first name basis, don't you agree?"   
  
"Yes, of course. Lex." They shook hands again and left the restaurant, both of them headed in opposite directions.   
  
As he made his way back to his spacious penthouse apartment, Lex couldn't help but smile--a genuine and very amused smile. He wasn't surprised that his father had enemies on his own board of directors. He'd expected that every bit as much as he expected the clear Kansas sky to be blue. However, he found it immensely amusing that those same enemies were more than willing to hear him out. Word was silently spreading--the last two of them had come to him of their own accord. He hadn't needed to seek them out.   
  
At the same token, he'd been slowly courting a few of LuthorCorp's investors and key share-holders. The time was almost ripe, and Lex could taste the fruit of impending triumph.   
  
Back at the penthouse, he poured himself a drink and picked up his cellular phone. Before he could press a button, however, it rang. "Lex Luthor," he said after the first ring.   
  
::What... were you sitting there waiting for the phone to ring?:: a familiar, laughing voice responded.   
  
"Very funny. If you must know, I was just about to call you."  
  
::My lucky day.::  
  
"More like mine. I closed the deal with Jameson today."   
  
::Sooner than expected. Good.:: There was a pause, and in his mind, Lex could see Bruce's dark face working thoughtfully. ::You don't think it was too soon, do you?::  
  
"You're thinking things are happening too fast? Bruce, it's been over a year. I'm more than ready."  
  
::I know... I just... don't want us to be too hasty. I'd hate to slip up now.::   
  
Lex chuckled. "We won't--trust me."  
  
::You know I do. However, I don't trust your father. Any of those board members could be spying for him.::  
  
They'd discussed this before, after the first board member Lex approached agreed to meet with him. "It's a chance we'll have to take, Bruce, though I doubt it at this point. Most of these men have genuine cause to hate my father. I'm merely playing on their prejudices against him."  
  
::What are your plans for tomorrow?:: Bruce asked, suddenly changing subjects. His voice was instantly low and intimate, making Lex's breath hitch slightly. ::I'm in Smallville right now,:: his lover hinted broadly.   
  
"Now I wish I hadn't made plans," Lex said, only half jokingly. "Dad and I are taking in a baseball game."  
  
::Isn't it a little too late for father-son bonding?::  
  
Lex smiled a little, imagining the dark eyes which would have been smiling back at him. "More than a little, but I would hardly call this bonding. At least not honestly. More like a PR opportunity." Lex explained that he'd arranged for his father to be at the first home game for the Little League team LuthorCorp sponsored. His father was dead set against it, but had given in when Lex agreed to go as well.   
  
Bruce laughed at this. ::Enjoy the game.::  
  
Lex hadn't thought he would. It was more like the ultimate opportunity to take his father's "united Luthor front" and throw it back in his face. There was nothing united about the Luthor family. His father had forgotten that recently, but Lex was now determined to remind him why that was. On second thought, that in itself could afford him a few moments of enjoyment.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
"I fail to see why we both have to be here," Lionel Luthor commented during the second inning. The LuthorCorp sponsored Giants were down by two runs, and the CEO looked incredibly out of place seated on the worn bleachers in his Armani business suit. Lex had opted for a more casual look--blue jeans and a dark tee-shirt, topped off with a team ball cap on his bald head. He'd brought one for his father, as well, knowing full well that it wouldn't be accepted.   
  
"I told you before, Dad," Lex said as he politely applauded the first Giant batter to make it past second base the entire inning. "It's good for our image. Besides, I thought you said you wanted to show the world that we are as one."   
  
"Are we, Lex?" Lionel countered, doubt shrouding his face. "I find myself wondering where your loyalties lie."  
  
"You know I only want what's best for LuthorCorp, Dad, the same as you."  
  
Lionel made sound that came close to a 'harrumph' and turned his attention back to the game.   
  
At intermission, Lex had arranged for his father to announce the winners of the fund-raising raffle the kids had launched to get new uniforms. LuthorCorp had promised to match their efforts dollar for dollar. Lex smirked as he father delivered that little tidbit to the crowd of parents and visiting spectators, remembering how much his father had complained about flushing good money down the toilet. Public relations, however, was a powerful weapon, and one Lex knew how to wield well enough to make his father squirm. "If we're spending money on the public," he'd told his father "it will draw people's attention off our recent loses. Like the crap factory and Grant Tech. It will give the impression that we're still on top of our game."  
  
Lionel, of course, had argued that they shouldn't need to give any such impression, and if they did, it was largely Lex's fault. Accusations aside, he still caved to Lex's pressuring. It was a small victory, but one that reminded Lex of how far he'd gone in one year's time. LuthorCorp was already more his company than his father's. Even in his father's mind, it seemed. That would make what came next all the easier, he thought with a smirk.   
  
"Lex?" the astonished female voice broke through his thoughts and Lex turned to see Chloe Sullivan walking towards him. She was followed by an older-looking young woman with dark hair and brown eyes. She vaguely reminded him of Lana.  
  
"Ms. Sullivan!" Lex beamed at her. "Fancy running into you here."   
  
"I have a cousin on the team," Chloe explained. "I've been to every game so far."   
  
"Have you?"  
  
"Yeah. Actually, Perry's been letting me submit reviews of the teams for the sports department."  
  
"I thought you wanted to be an investigative journalist," commented Lex.   
  
"Oh, I still do, but Perry say it's good to diversify and get all the experience I can."   
  
Lex nodded. "And you are?" he asked, directing his gaze to her friend.  
  
"Oh! Where are my manners?" Chloe blushed. "I was so amazed to see you, I didn't even think to introduce you to Lois. Lex, this is my cousin, Lois Lane. She's interning at the Planet this year, too." She turned sheepishly to Lois. "I told you I knew Lex Luthor personally."   
  
Lex laughed at Chloe's tone, which suggested that Lois had not believed her. "Having trouble convincing the unwashed masses?"   
  
"Only a little. So... what are you doing here?" Chloe asked when Lex motioned the two young women should sit down with him.   
  
"Putting in a public appearance with Dad," he replied, nodding in his father's direction. Lionel was starting to wind up the raffle announcements. "We're team sponsors." He paused, watching her expression as she filed this information away in her mind. "Speaking of fathers... how's yours, Chloe?"  
  
"You know Uncle Gabe?" Lois asked. Lex smiled at her surprised tone.  
  
"Dad was one of Lex's plant managers, Lo-Lo."   
  
"We worked very closely together while I was in Smallville," Lex further supplied. "I have only the greatest respect for your uncle." Chloe seemed to puff up a little at this, as if she were proud of her father for making such an impression on his employer. The truth was, in the short time Lex had known the man, Gabe Sullivan had taught him something his father never had been capable of--how to understand his employees. How to get down on their level and anticipate their needs as well as that of the corporation they served.   
  
Lex invited the girls to stay with him even after his father returned. Lionel was more amicable around them, for one thing, and for another--Lex just wanted the company of someone he didn't feel the need to pose for. He knew Chloe Sullivan well enough that casual was just fine with her.... even if he was certain their encounter would wind up in an editorial for the Daily Planet's sports section.   
  



	4. 4: Thoughts of Betrayal

Part 4  
  
He was right, of course. There was a blurb about meeting the infamous Luthors at the Little League game in the section reserved for local sports the next day. He was, however, wrong in the assumption that it had been written by Chloe. Instead, Lois Lane's name accompanied the three-paragraph article that speculated more about LuthorCorp's sudden interest in local events than it did go over the highlights of the game. He was, however, surprised to see how tame the article was. Their brief exchange yesterday had left him thinking Lois Lane was as free with her opinions as her cousin, and yet the article so devoid of those opinions that he wondered just how much editing Perry White had subjected it to. The Giants had come from behind after the half to win by one run, but that had been more of a footnote in Ms. Lane's mind.   
  
Lex had to laugh, realizing now where Chloe had gotten her journalistic instincts from--whichever side of her family's gene pool she shared with her cousin. Ah, well, he thought as he sipped his morning coffee. The article wasn't necessarily a bad thing, after all. It was good publicity, showing even the doubters that the Luthor men could do normal.   
  
He called Chloe's cell phone and asked her to thank Lois for the "glowing review." Chloe laughed, as well, and relayed the message to an indignant Lois. "She really doesn't like your family's reputation," she told him apologetically. Lex told her it was it okay, that most people he knew fell into the same trap. He was used to it. Chloe asked if he was planning to go to the next home game and if he wouldn't mind the company again. Lex had to admit, he had enjoyed having Chloe around. They'd talked about Clark and Smallville--which really pissed his father off, despite the good face Lionel put on for their guests--and had generally had fun. It had been nice to have a friendly face around, one that wasn't looking to double cross him.   
  
Slipping the cell phone back into his pocket, Lex sighed. Smallville had spoiled him, left him wanting people in his life who weren't completely false with him. In most the dealings he'd had in the town, people either hated him for who he was or knew nothing about him at all. Neither did they hide their presumptions about him behind smiles and false praise.   
  
He missed that, missed the honesty even with all its animosity. He also missed the man this honesty had made of him. A better man, in some ways. Metropolis was slowly leeching it out of him... the goodness, that is. He felt it flowing away from him, like a river intent on escaping to the sea.   
  
The biggest example of this escape had been the other day, while plotting his next move against his father, when it had crossed his mind--even briefly--how easy it could be to screw Bruce Wayne over. Lex even knew *how* he could accomplish the ultimate coupe d'état: he knew all of his partner's recent investments, knew which of them had left his company vulnerable to outside influences. Moreover, he knew which of his assets he could easily liquidate to give LuthorCorp an edge of Wayne Enterprises. So easy, and a shadow voice in the back of his mind even praised the thought, whispering how grand a defeat that would be--a Luthor triumphing over an unsuspecting Wayne. His father's voice... and the voice of every Luthor who'd gone before them.   
  
Lex had dismissed the thought and the voice, however. That couldn't tempt him, shouldn't tempt him. Bruce wasn't his enemy. His father was the enemy, always, and Lex had to remind himself that every closeness they'd shared recently was a lie, a hoax perpetrated by both of them to serve their own purposes. Games. He'd once told his father that all they had left between them were games. It was still true, and Lex couldn't lose sight of that, lest he also lose the game.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
Lex was deep in thought, eyes staring--but unseeing--at nothingness as thoughts of Smallville, the tornado and his father's deceit flashed through his mind. He was so deep in thought in thought that he barely heard the admittedly stealthy footsteps behind him or the crinkle of leather until a warm breath breezed across the skin at the back of his neck.   
  
"Penny for your thoughts..."   
  
The voice was warm and dark, like a thick blanket wrapping around Lex's mind. "The going price is a dollar these days--inflation, you know," Lex replied, unable to control the smile that slid across his features. "How did you get past the doorman?" Or security, for that matter. No one was supposed to gain entrance to this suite without his knowledge and permission--not even his father. He turned his head to find Bruce grinning at him, dark eyes twinkling with merriment as he shrugged in response to the suspicious question. "Bruce..." Lex's voice held a hint of warning.   
  
"I slipped in when the doorman went on break. I missed you," came a more satisfactory answer. His lover's arms slid over the soft leather of Lex's chair to drape over his shoulders. Sure fingers kneaded the muscles which had tensed while Lex had been lost in thought.  
  
"Mmmm..." was the only sound that came out of his mouth when his lips parted. What he'd meant to say was... "I missed you, too." Bruce gave him another smile, one his small, knowing half-smirks, and slithered around to the front of the chair. He had this incredible gleam in his eyes--hungry and sinful--and it occurred to Lex that he must be dreaming... that somehow, he'd fallen asleep, as this was too good a fantasy to waste being awake.   
  
That illusion was promptly shattered when Bruce slid into the chair with Lex--climbing onto his lap and straddling his legs--successfully pinning him down.   
  
Lex reached out, his fingers tangling in dark hair as his palms cradled Bruce's skull, snaring him effortlessly and drawing him downward. Their lips met in a fierce kiss--nothing tender or warm, just scorching heat. Lex dominated the kiss, tongue plundering the mouth that opened for him in a groan of desire. His own panting breaths broke the chuckle of satisfaction that escaped his lips.   
  
A swooshing noise followed another ragged groan, the leather covering of the chair rejecting the touch of Bruce's designer clothing and sending him slipping from Lex's lap. Bruce caught himself on his knees, and Lex suddenly found his lover's face buried in the soft folds of his silk shirt. Kisses pressed the material into his flesh, sent shivers racing down his spine and straight to his...   
  
"Mr. Luthor?" A buzzing noise accompanied the voice that broke into the erotic tableau. It look Lex a minute or two--shaking his head to clear his mind--to realize that it had, in fact, been nothing more than a daydream: Bruce Wayne wasn't there, wasn't seducing him, and the buzzer in question was from the intercom. The voice belonged to Bernie, the doorman. "Mr. Luthor?"  
  
Struggling to fight his residual arousal, Lex padded to the intercom box and pressed the speaker button. "Yes, Bernard?" he asked, his voice finally finding itself.   
  
"Your father is here to see you, sir. Shall I let him in?"   
  
Shit. Not what he needed right now. "Yeah," said Lex with a groan of frustration. "Go ahead, and let him in." His father had probably seen Lois Lane's article by now and would likely have plenty say about it. Of all the joys in the world, this was certainly not one of them.   
  
Ah, well, Lex had to admit one thing. His father had impeccable timing.   
  



	5. 5: Storm

Part 5  
  
Lana spurred her horse, a little too hard if the slight jump the  
animal gave was any indication, urging it to go faster. She wanted  
to go… somewhere… as fast as her horse could carry her. Away from  
the house--where Whitney's letter lay re-read upon her pink bedspread  
taunting her. Three times in the past week she'd picked it up,  
determined to answer it, and three times she'd thrown the letter down  
in disgust. They'd dated for years; he was her first and only  
boyfriend. Yet, he still didn't trust her. Okay, sure she'd flirted  
with Clark Kent a few times, but Clark was more like a reliable puppy  
than boyfriend material. Not to mention the fact that Clark was  
happy with Chloe right now.   
  
Besides, flirting wasn't cheating and that's what Whitney seemed to  
think her capable of--cheating on him.   
  
The wind whipped across her face and she felt the first sprinkles of  
the rain that had been threatening all day. She should go back, but  
she didn't want to face Nell, who'd warned her not to go out with a  
storm approaching. Instead, she pushed the horse a little faster,  
letting the water splattering across her face cool her anger as it  
began to fall harder. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her  
ride take her where it will and enjoying the way it felt to be blind  
to the world in front of her.  
  
Scary… and oddly enough… free.  
  
Her eyes opened the instant the horse reared, lightning striking on  
the horizon in front of them. As the animal bucked, Lana looked  
around wildly in an attempt to get her bearings. They weren't on  
Nell's property anymore, and she wasn't quite sure where she was.   
Another bolt of lightning flickered in front of them, this time much  
closer, and before Lana knew what was happening, she was sent sailing  
from the saddle. She landed in the bushes a foot from where they'd  
been when the storm began to pick up in strength. By the time she'd  
struggled to her feet, the horse was nowhere in sight.  
  
She was alone, stranded in the middle of an unfamiliar pasture, and  
totally lost.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
"Lana? Lana!"  
  
Lana thought the voice was getting louder, but she couldn't quite  
pin point where it was coming from. Howling wind sounded in her ears  
as it blew sheets of heavy rain down on top of her.   
  
"Lana!"  
  
This time, the voice was right on top of her, and she whirled  
around, turning in the direction she hoped it was coming from.   
Stumbling, she found herself swept up into Bruce Wayne's arms.   
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, shouting above the wind. He looked  
and sounded genuinely concerned for her. Lana nodded mutely,  
slumping against him as the rain assaulted them both, his body  
shielding hers only a little. "Well, then, let's get you inside,  
shall we?" At his words, the world tilted and Lana was lifted off  
the ground and up into his arms.   
  
Bruce Wayne was carrying her.   
  
A part of Lana Lang that absolutely hated being the damsel in  
distress protested--she could walk on her own. Another part of her  
mind, however, launched a strong rebuttal in favor of staying in the  
warm, strong arms and the safety they offered. Agreeing, Lana  
snuggled closer while Bruce rushed them both towards the brightly-lit  
farmhouse and she slid from his arms only when they were inside the  
parlor.  
  
The house was still pretty bare, she noted, looking about her while  
Bruce went back outside. The only major change was that the painters  
had been there since the last time she'd been out to the farm. The  
parlor seemed cheerier now, what with the light from the crystal  
ceiling light bouncing off the soft, apricot paint in beams of sunny  
light. Quite a contrast from the storm raging outside.  
  
Each room was meant to have a different color--a different mood, as  
Bruce had articulated to François once their communication issues had  
been resolved. Lana and Nell had consulted on most of it--helping  
Bruce to find the right colors and patterns to convey the feelings he  
was reaching for--and Lana had to admit that while the whole mood  
thing was weird, it was definitely working. Now, despite the lack  
of furnishing, she actually felt as if the room was welcoming her,  
which had, of course, been the mood Bruce Wayne had wanted it to  
convey to his guests.  
  
"Here," he said, re-entering the house with an oddly convenient  
suitcase. He opened it and rifled through the contents before  
pulling out a pair of dark sweat pants and a matching shirt, which he  
tossed at her unceremoniously. "Go change."  
  
The simple yet polite order brought Lana back to herself and to the  
situation at hand, forcing her to realize that she was soaked to the  
bone and dripping rain, mud and who knows what else all over the  
floor. God, how embarrassing, she thought, wondering how bad she  
must look right now. Accepting the clothes, she wandered off to find  
a room she could undress without compromising her modesty.  
  
There was a mirror in the downstairs bathroom. She'd been right;  
she looked awful. Her make up was streaked, hair a mass of tendrils,  
and all of her was covered in mud and vegetation.   
  
"You could have listened to Nell," she accused her reflection in the  
mirror and reached for the roll of paper towels one of the workers  
had brought in to use while on the job. Her reflection refused to  
comment--although had Lana been the paranoid type, she might have  
sworn it had smirked back at her briefly, before the paper towel  
washed away the evidence.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
Bruce was talking on his cell phone when Lana returned from the  
bathroom. She dropped her wet things in a corner of the floor and  
stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.   
  
"I see," he said to whomever he was speaking, his face clouding  
over. "That is a problem, but I'm sure we'll be alright." He closed  
the phone with a snap and pocketed it before giving her a sad smile.   
"That was your aunt," he explained.  
  
"Is she coming for me?" Lana partially hoped Nell wouldn't be  
coming to pick up her, as she wanted nothing more to postpone the  
lecture she knew her aunt must have waiting for her at home.   
  
Bruce shook his had. "I'm sure she would, but the police have  
closed roads because of the storm."  
  
"Oh." They were trapped here.  
  
While Lana processed this information, her savior walked over to the  
opposite wall where a mattress meant for the master bedroom leaned as  
it waited to be taken upstairs. He settled it on the ground and  
motioned for Lana to sit down. She, however, just stood there,  
feeling numb and more than a little stupid. They were stuck there,  
in the empty house in a raging storm, and she was solely to blame.   
  
"Nell was worried, wasn't she?" she asked. Bruce stopped pawing  
through his suitcase to look at her. He shrugged.  
  
"When your horse came back without a rider... yeah, I think she was  
a little worried. She called the Kents."  
  
She'd been hoping I was there, Lana realized, feeling even worse.   
The Kent farm was close, so it made sense that she might turn up  
there. She hadn't even realized that she and Nell shared a border  
with Bruce's property… but if she had wandered there when the storm  
made it hard for her to navigate, they must.   
  
"She called you, too, then?"  
  
He shook his head. "By pure chance, I had business with the Kents  
this afternoon. I was there when the call came in, and when I left  
them, I decided to check here, just in case you thought you look for  
shelter from the storm."  
  
"I'm glad you did." Her voice sounded small in her ears, and all  
she could muster for him was a weak smile.   
  
He smiled back, a much warmer and slightly comforting smile, and  
returned his attention to the suitcase. He appeared totally  
oblivious to Lana's growing discomfort. She already felt bad for  
taking him away from whatever his busy schedule might entail--the  
presence of the suitcase suggested he was headed out of town, which,  
thanks to her, he could no longer do--and even more so for knowing  
the Kents had likely searched for her, as well.   
  
Sighing heavily, she sat down on the mattress and hugged her knees  
to her chest. There was a reason, she realized, why she acted as  
though her life was completely perfect. Even the results of a normal  
temper tantrum were disastrous.   
  
"Lana?" Bruce's voice cut through the gloom slowly spreading  
through her. "Are you certain you're alright?" He closed the  
suitcase and brought over what he'd been looking for--a lightweight,  
dark gray thermal blanket, like the kind the military used. He sat  
down beside her, ignoring her little head shake of self-denial and  
covered them both. The blanket and arm that both slipped around her  
shoulders were both warm and comforting, however, she pulled away,  
all the same.  
  
"Body heat is our friend, Lana," he said, gently reminding her that  
the house was not yet equipped with central heat, and grudgingly, she  
allowed him to draw her closer.  
  
He didn't have to be so nice to her, not after how selfish she'd  
been today. She didn't really understand why anyone was nice to her,  
actually. What was she but a big waste of space? She didn't have  
anything to offer anyone but a pretty face. Or so it felt to her  
sometimes. Wasn't that what Whitney wanted? He'd asked her out  
because she was pretty and a cheerleader, and shouldn't all  
quarterbacks date pretty cheerleaders? She would make him a lovely,  
obedient wife, too, no doubt. Nell wanted her to be the perfect  
niece to show off to people in a "see how well she turned out without  
parents" capacity. Clark and just about everyone else in town had  
idealized her to the point where even she had started to believe in  
that version of herself.   
  
The only problem was, Lana was having trouble liking Ms Ideal  
Perfection these days. That wasn't who she wanted to be anymore.   
The only trouble was, she didn't know what else there was for her. 


	6. 6: SelfRealization

I wanted to say "thank you" to the people who are still reading  
this, despite the Lana thing.   
Part 6   
  
Lana awoke to the sound of soft laughter rumbling through the chest  
beneath her ear. Opening her eyes slowly to allow them time to  
adjust to the unfamiliar darkness of the farmhouse, she could just  
make out the outline of a cellular phone pressed to her human  
pillow's ear.   
  
"She's asleep," Bruce said to whomever was on the phone. "Safe,  
yes. I'm taking good care of her." Another soft chuckle vibrated  
through him. She sort of liked the way it felt against her body.   
"I'm glad you called, though. I would have felt badly about it  
otherwise." He fell silent and then, "Good night, Lex."  
  
"That was Lex?" she asked, alerting him to the fact that she was,  
in fact, awake.   
  
Bruce nodded in affirmation. "He called to ask if things were okay  
here--with you, I mean. I'm sorry we woke you up."   
  
"Oh. You didn't. I just--just couldn't sleep." Bruce accepted  
this rather lame excuse with a frown, but said nothing. "How did Lex  
know about this?"  
  
"We were supposed to have dinner in Metropolis."  
  
The suitcase, Lana realized as guilt seeped back into her soul.   
He'd missed his dinner with Lex because of her. They probably had  
important business to discuss and now it had to wait. Again, because  
of her.   
  
"Lana." Bruce's voice was darker than usual, deeper and somehow  
more intense. "You do know that none this is your fault, right?"  
  
"But I knew a storm might be coming," she protested. "And you could  
be in Metropolis right now if you hadn't stopped to look for me."  
  
"Do you honestly think either Lex or I would be enjoying our fancy  
dinner right now if a friend of ours was lost and possibly in danger?"  
  
She looked up and saw the sincerity in his eyes. "No, I guess not."  
  
He gave her a gentle smile, smoothing her hair with the palm of his  
hands. "Of course not," he confirmed. "Lex and I both understand,  
trust me. I only hope whatever sent you out alone on a day like  
today has worked itself out."   
  
"No, it hasn't," she admitted with a tortured sigh. "I honestly  
didn't mean to cause everyone so much trouble," she told him. "I  
just wanted to find someplace where I could be alone and think, you  
know?" Of course he didn't, she thought. Bruce Wayne was a master  
of his own destiny; he couldn't possibly know what it felt like to be  
what other people wanted you to be.  
  
"Yeah, I do, actually," he said, surprising her. He studied her  
closely, and again Lana felt as if he was trying to see inside her.   
"If you talked about it, it might help you sort things out."  
  
The offer was so tempting. Lana couldn't count the times she'd  
wanted to tell someone what she was feeling, but didn't out of fear  
of shattering that image of herself. The image she was growing to  
hate. But here in the unfinished farmhouse, she felt as if she could  
do it. She could tell Bruce, and the darkness surrounding them would  
swallow up her secret feelings as soon as she voiced them.   
  
"Well," she began, hesitating on the first word. "Everyone I know  
thinks that I'm perfect--that my life is so wonderful and idyllic.   
But it's far from it." She continued to speak--telling him about  
her parents, Nell, the pressures of running the Talon, dating  
Whitney, and about her uncertainties. He listened long into the  
night, until the rains had finally stopped and Lana had again fallen  
asleep in his arms.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
Lana stared at herself in the mirror.   
  
She felt different, although nothing had happened to her to make  
feel that way. Or had it? She'd told her secrets to someone other  
than her diary, someone who had understood more than she thought he  
would.   
  
It was Bruce's advice that had changed her, she realized, even  
though she had yet to act on any of it. Although, to be fair, he'd  
only said things she should already have known. Maybe did know in  
her heart. He'd told her that she didn't have to be anything but who  
she was, not who other people wanted her to be. Of course, she'd  
argued that she didn't know who she was.   
  
::Of course you don't,:: she could still hear him saying. ::No one  
knows everything about themselves seventeen, and those who think they  
do are fooling themselves.:: She'd laughed at that, then admitted  
she was a little--okay, a lot--scared to find out who she really was.  
He'd simply grinned at her as if he understood how frightening it was  
to reinvent yourself and told her that--the fear, she supposed--was  
all a part of discovering your true self.   
  
Just go for it, he'd told her, adding that from the way she spoke,  
her heart already knew what it wanted. All she had to do was follow  
it.   
  
She wanted to, wanted to with every fiber of her being. She longed  
for people to see *her* and not the little girl whose parents had  
died in fire before her very eyes. Not the frightened child on the  
magazine cover, but the person she'd grown into.  
  
"Good-bye, fairy princess," Lana told her reflection, her voice full  
of new resolve. Turning from the mirror she crossed to the closet  
and began pulling out clothes and tossing them onto the floor.   
  
"Lana, honey?" Nell's voice came from the doorway and Lana turned  
to see her aunt watching her with concern. "What's wrong with you?   
You're so moody lately." Nell eyed the mess appraisingly. "Is there  
something the matter with your clothes?" she asked when Lana didn't  
respond to her other questions.  
  
Lana gave her a small smile, hoping to ease Nell's mind. Nell  
hadn't said anything when Bruce brought her home yesterday. She just  
hugged her close and thanked Bruce repeatedly. Like she was still  
that child--small and breakable. Afterwards, when he'd climbed into  
his sleek, black sports car and left them alone together in the  
driveway, Lana pulled away from her aunt and spent the rest of the  
day in her bedroom. Nell hadn't tried to talk to about what might be  
bothering her until now.  
  
"Oh, no, they're fine," Lana said before she could stop herself.   
"Some of them just aren't me anymore, you know?" she added, giving  
Nell a meaningful look. "I thinking about boxing them up and taking  
them to Goodwill." It wasn't a lie. That had been what she'd  
intended to do with them.   
  
"New clothes always made me feeling better when I was down in the  
dumps," Nell told her, sitting down on Lana's bed. Well, duh, Lana  
thought. Nell still prescribed to the shop-til-you-drop method of  
therapy. "Why don't I help you pack up what you don't want and then  
we can go shopping. Fordman's is having a sale--"  
  
"Actually, I kind of wanted something different than Fordman's usual  
fare." Lana shifted her gaze away from her aunt and then back again.  
"I have some money saved up... from the Talon... and I thought we  
could go into Metropolis and--"  
  
"That sounds like a good idea!" Nell gushed, taking her hand and  
squeezing it. "We could go Saturday, leave early, have lunch at a  
fancy restaurant, maybe?"  
  
"Sure," agreed Lana, weakly. Nell really didn't want to know what  
was bothering her, she just wanted to be sure that the illusion of  
"all right" was still intact. 


	7. 7: Betrayal

Part 7  
  
Lex accepted the drink his father handed him and turned to stare out  
the window as the sun began fading into the Metropolis sky. Ever  
since the day his father had informed him that Plant #3 was being  
sold, he'd been unable to see this sight without comparing it to the  
Smallville skyline, which seemed to him a more honest event as if  
somehow, sunset in Metropolis was as corrupt as some of the people  
living there.   
  
Guilt by association, perhaps.   
  
"Have you given thought to what we spoke of last time, Lex?"   
  
His father had asked him to 'consider the benefits of besting young  
Wayne' and had extolled to him the virtues of making LuthorCorp  
stronger by single-handedly destroying its biggest competitor.   
  
"Yes." Lex swallowed more of his brandy, the liquid burning his  
throat. He *had* thought about it--more than he cared to admit to at  
the moment.   
  
"Well?" Lionel pushed. "Now is the time to strike, Lex--while  
Wayne is preoccupied with that filthy little town."   
  
Inwardly, Lex winced. "Patience, Dad, is a virtue I was certain  
even you could appreciate." He took another drink and faced his  
father, adding, "I'm still weighing my options."   
  
"Lex..." his name was being stretched out to two syllables,  
something he had always hated when it came from his father and  
wrapped in tones of disappointment. When he was younger, it had been  
enough to bring him to shame... because he'd so wanted his father's  
approval.   
  
Lex no longer cared, however, if his father was proud of him. And  
while the idea of double-crossing Bruce Wayne and undermining his  
business was tempting to Lex, it was not because it would please his  
father. It was a tempting thought simply because it was, and he  
hadn't needed his father to point that out for him.   
  
"Dad." He shot back in one short, terse breath. It was almost  
reprimanding, and he half expected his father's anger. Instead, the  
elder Luthor merely frowned.   
  
"It would be ideal; he trusts you," he urged smoothly, apparently  
having decided to try a less abrasive approach. Lex couldn't argue  
with that. Bruce *did* trust him more than perhaps he should. His  
acquiescence to that fact must have shown on his face, because Lionel  
smiled a little, coldly. The smile said clearly, 'Think about it as  
long as you need, but I know you'll come around.'   
  
Lex ignored it. The fact that a part of him was certain he could  
easily pull off such duplicitous move without detection by his lover  
disturbed him. As he turned the conversation to LuthorCorp's weekly  
projections, however, the disturbing thought remained with him.   
  
*&*&*&*  
  
Lex dreamt of the tornado that night. He saw himself standing above  
his father--the power to save or condemn his alone. He heard his  
father asking for help, pleading for it, really. In the dream, Lex  
turned coldly away from his father and stepped aside just as another  
patch of ceiling came crashing down. There was a ringing in his ears  
that coincided with his father's cries of desperation.   
  
The ringing continued, and as Lex groggily came into consciousness,  
he realized it was the phone. Reaching for it in the darkness, he  
knocked the receiver from the cradle and onto the floor.   
  
"Yeah?" he asked without ceremony when he finally retrieved it.   
  
::Lex? You okay?::   
  
It was Bruce.   
  
"Yeah," Lex repeated, this time with more assurance in his voice.   
"I was asleep is all. Where are you?"   
  
::The lobby. The night doorman won't let me come up. He wouldn't  
even ring through to your suite.:: Bruce sounded pouty and tired.  
  
No, Bernie wouldn't. Lex had been explicit in his instructions when  
he returned from the meeting with his father: no interruptions unless  
the building was on fire and he needed to evacuate. Bernie was  
nothing if not loyal.   
  
"I'm sorry, Bruce," Lex told him. He slid from the bed and fumbled  
with the light on his nightstand. "Give me a minute and I'll buzz  
the desk." He hung up and reached for the first article of clothing  
he could find. Padding to the intercom, the pressed a button and  
informed the doorman that it was all right to admit his unexpected  
guest. Then he sat down on the bed and pulled on his slacks. He  
couldn't find his shirt; he didn't really care.   
  
A few minutes later, the sound of his door chimes filled the air,  
too cheerful for the day *and night* he'd had so far. It was well-  
past midnight, and Lex answered the door as is. The man one the  
other side of it was as rumpled as Lex, only with more clothing to  
show to bear evidence of it. Bruce's once crisp, white shirt was  
wrinkled and unbuttoned down to the third button. A dark blue jacket  
was slung over his arm. His eyes were ringed in shadow.   
  
"Half-dressed is a good look on you," he commented, gifting Lex with  
a weary smile.   
  
Lex felt the corner of his lips twitch in response as he stepped  
aside to let the other man inside. It might have been the first time  
he'd smiled in twenty-four hours. It felt longer than that, though.   
"Exhausted is a terrible look on you."   
  
Bruce's weary smile faded a little. "I had three meetings in  
Smallville this morning... with some of the farmers concerned about  
out credit union's policies." Lex nodded. Their conference with  
Jonathan Kent last month had confirmed that the farming community, at  
least, were very aware of what he and Bruce were trying to do. "And  
an equal amount here in the city this afternoon. I was late because  
of the rain, and they all ran long."   
  
"Investors?"   
  
"Some, and a meeting with the airport's board of directors about the  
new security system. I was supposed to fly home three hours ago,  
but..." he trailed off as he followed Lex into the living room area  
and sat down on a leather sofa. He said 'home' like it was a place  
he hadn't seen in ages and longed for the sight of. Lex envied that  
because nowhere he'd lived--even here in his hand-picked penthouse--  
had ever really been home.   
  
"Can I get you a drink?" he asked despite the late hour and his  
friend's ragged appearance. He turned towards the mini-bar, only to  
be stopped by a hand grasping his own. Bruce gave a little tug and  
pulled Lex to him.   
  
Lex allowed himself to be gathered into the other man's arms,  
shifting to straddle his lap even as their lips met. Bruce's arm  
went around his waist, and his fingers tangled in Bruce's hair--each  
of them holding the other as close as they could. His lover's mouth  
was soft and forceful at the same time, taking everything he was  
giving while demanding more. His tongue--so slick--darted in and out  
of Lex's mouth.   
  
Lex didn't know when his eyes fluttered shut, leaving him to simply  
*feel* the tempest of emotion and sensation growing between them.   
His breath came in little gasps which blended with the raspy groans  
emanating from Bruce. He ground his hips into Bruce's lap, hardness  
meeting hardness as their bodies rocked together.   
  
"Bruuuce..." he hissed, and Bruce's hands molded themselves to the  
seat of his slacks. Gripping, forcing him down all the harder.  
  
"Lex..." came the response. Two syllables, and this time it wasn't  
a bad thing. Lex ground in a little more. Bruce wrenched his mouth  
from Lex's and began planting kisses across his face. "Missed you so  
much..." he murmured, his lips moving to Lex's jaw. "Needed to see  
you..."  
  
Lex moaned, thrilling at the sound of desire in the voice that was  
now so close to his ear. Warm, moist breath tickled his earlobe.   
  
"... one last time..."  
  
Lex's eyes snapped open, his body frozen in mid-motion. "Bruce...  
what do you mean by  
'one last time'?" The pained look on the other man's face wasn't a  
good sign.   
  
Neither were the suddenly averted eyes. "I didn't mean for you to  
hear it like this, Lex. I'm sorry."  
  
Were you even planning to tell me at all, Lex thought, suddenly  
bitter. He pushed himself off Bruce's lap as if he were in a hurry  
to put space between them. Bruce reached for him, and Lex moved  
away from the touch.   
  
"Please. Let me explain." The tortured sound to his voice was a  
nice touch, Lex grudgingly admitted.   
  
"So, explain." Bruce winced visibly at the coldness in Lex's words.  
"I think you owe me that much." 


	8. 8: Doubts & Frustrations

Auothor's Notes: Sorry this has been so long coming. The muses got distracted. They aren't now.

* * *

Part 8

Lex's head was pounding, and the sound of the voice droning on about finance reports at the other end of the boardroom grated on his last nerve. In retrospect, getting very drunk after Bruce left last night was not as brilliant an idea as it had seemed like at the time. 

"Lex?" His father's voiced boomed out as the drone finished his monologue. "Do you have anything useful to add?" Inwardly, Lex winced. His father seemed to know he was off his game today, even if he didn't know why. All eyes in the room turned expectantly towards him. 

Lex nodded, slowly, to test how even the slightest motion would affect his throbbing skull. It didn't hurt half as badly as he'd anticipated, so he decided it was safe to say something. "Naturally," he replied, his lips curling slightly at the edges as he pointed out the weaker areas of the report he'd just heard. He was all-too aware of his father's eyes on him, watching his every move and mannerism. Watching him too sharply, too keenly. 

He wrapped his commentary and sat back down, fielding questions from various board members. The questions lasted for a few more minutes and then the meeting ended. Lex rose from his seat, trying not to appear hasty, and exited the room. His sole thought was on getting out of the LuthorCorp building as quickly as he could. 

"Lex!" Dominic's voice rang out behind him, grating even more than usual. He ignored the salutation and continued on his way to his office, slamming the door behind him, which caught on Dominic's hand when he tried to stop it so he could follow Lex--uninvited--into the office. His father's drone yelped, and Lex smothered a laugh. Served him right for not taking the hint when Lex ignored him the first time. Lex didn't want to talk to him.

"What is it now, Dom?" Lex sounded tired, but thankfully not whiny.

"Your father wants--"

"It can wait," Lex interrupted. He didn't care what Lionel wanted. Besides, he was certain he knew what his father wanted. He busied himself by straightening his desk and shutting down his computer. 

"But Mr. Luthor said--"

"Dom." Lex looked up from his computer and glared his father's favorite lackey. "I'm going home for the night. Whatever Dad wants from me, it can wait until tomorrow." His tone left no room for argument. He wasn't going to start jumping through his father's hoops just because Bruce had decided *for them* that they needed to start keeping an even lower profile. 

*&*&*&*

Lex woke Saturday morning with the same pounding headache he'd had for most of the previous day. This time, however, it was not from anything he'd consumed, but the result of having every phone in his possession ringing off the hook for most of the night. Apparently, his father hadn't been happy when he hadn't rushed straight into his office as expected. 

Lex had actually answered the first of many phone calls, then hung up while Lionel was in mid-rant. He'd called back a few more times, and then Lex unhooked the main phone. Then his father started calling on the cell phone. 

Lex turned it off, but by that time, he was tense with annoyance. Sleep came fitfully, and only after he lay awake wrestling with his own mind. Bruce hadn't given him a say in this decision. "I'm going back to Gotham for a while," he'd informed Lex, and then went on to add that he thought they needed to be more careful with their arrangement. Not relationship. Not involvement. Not even affair. Arrangement. As if he were trying to distance himself from Lex altogether. 

Logic said that Bruce was right: if his father discovered their personal involvement, he could use it against them both. He understood that--Hell, if the situation were reversed and he could get some dirt on Lionel, he'd do the same--but his pride stung at not being allowed an active role in the decision. They were... partners... lovers... he'd assumed Bruce respected him. 

The Luthor part of his brain insisted he'd assumed wrong. Most of the night had been a war to convince himself he hadn't been. Now, in the morning light, he was cranky and he had a Little League game to attend. 

*&*&*&*

Sunglasses hid the fact that Lex wasn't really paying attention to the game. His mind was still churning with too many new ideas--most of them bad--and the mediocre children's baseball team wasn't enough to hold him. Therefore, when a peanut shell hit him square in the chest, he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

"Hey!" Chloe Sullivan called out when Lex looked around for his assailant.

"Chloe." He smiled and then removed the sunglasses. Chloe and her cousin stood and moved down the row to sit next to him. 

"Wow, you look like a raccoon," Lois commented. "All night party?" Lex was immediately made aware of which side of the family Chloe got her directness. 

"Sadly, no," Lex replied dryly, although the thought occurred to him that a night out might be just the thing he needed to blow off a little steam. He hadn't been to a club since before he moved to Smallville. He'd left--or thought he had--that world behind him. His responsibilities with the factory, and now with both LuthorCorp and the credit union, left no time for him to be frivolous or reckless. 

Working so hard without distractions, however, combined with pressure from his father and from his relationship--make that 'arrangement'--with Bruce Wayne had left him feeling drained. Maybe a step on the wild side was what he'd been needing to take off the edge? 


End file.
